Updates … when they come

Vis a Vis Visas

Our fans are pretty upset with us these days. We haven’t updated the blog in months, and there may seem to be no real reason for that. This is somewhat true. The reason mostly being that we are busy/lazy/suffering from intermittant bouts of frustration and rage.

But let me start from roughly where we left off last time.

In April, I was offered a nanny position with a family in a town called Haasrode about 5 miles south of Leuven. I nanny for two darling children ages 1 year and almost 4 years old. They are the cutest kids in the universe. I love them; it’s going great. The parents are nice. The house is great, (and I get to eat their food!). I work 4 days a week for now, Monday thru Thursday with occassional Fridays. I will work full time starting in October. I will write more detail about them later.

In the 3 months that I was in Belgium, Trevor and I were working hard getting all our documents together for my visa. We applied for a cohabitation visa. Basically, I get a visa for living with a Belgian resident (Trevor) on a permanent basis. It’s complicated.

It really doesn’t sound like it would be that hard. But it was. Because it’s Belgium.

If you recall, last fall I was working on getting a job, then getting a work permit, and obtaining a visa that way. Well…that didn’t really pan out. Let’s just say that my internship went less than swimmingly. They more or less refused to fill out the paperwork needed for the work permit, and I decided that I didn’t want to keep trying to work, for no money, and no real prospect of being paid, for an “organization” that didn’t really want me.

So this time around, we chose a different route. Almost equally complicated and difficult. We had to acquire document after document, all with correct apostille*, dated less than 6 months ago, translated into Dutch, etc, etc,etc. It was long and arduous. There was lots of emailing back and forth with the Consulate in NYC, the Leuven townhall, and my parents. There was much money spent in the process…we’ve estimated it at around $2000. All for a sticker in my passport that says I can stay here legally with multiple re-entries into the country.

So now comes the chapter where I go to New York. Brace yourself, you are in for a bumpy ride.

I went to New York because they told me I had to.

Who are “they”, you ask? I’ll tell you. “They” are the powers that be. “They” are the ones who jerked me around the world against my will, forcing me to spend money I didn’t have, sending my documents from New York to Brussels to New York again, and sending me spiraling into fits of alternate rage and despair. “They” are the employees of the Belgian Consulate in NYC, the Leuven townhall, and the Brussels Ministry of the Interior.

You may think I’m being dramatic, but had you experienced what I did these last few weeks, you might think differently.

So, as is stated above, I went to New York because I was told it was the only place I could apply for my visa. I had to take time off from my nanny job, initially only 10 days, forcing the parents to take time off from their jobs to take care of their children. Ok, so far so good. Had all gone as planned, that would have been it.

But things did not go as planned.

I arrived in New York, dazed and confused from a long, boring flight. I ventured to the consulate the next morning (in true Belgian fashion, they are only open in the mornings), and handed in all of my documents that I’d had correctly apostilled, dated, translated, only to be told that my application couldn’t be processed in NYC after all, but would have to be sent to Brussels. In fact, it turns out, Trevor having been a resident of Belgium for more than 6 months (6 months is a big deal in Belgium!), the NY consulate had no power to process my visa, and it was all up to the Ministry of the Interior in Brussels. I was told that I should never have left Belgium in the first place, that this process could take between 2 and 6 weeks to complete, and since I had spent my max of 90 days in the Schengen area sans visa, I could not return until this visa was issued.

WHAT?! BUT YOU TOLD ME TO COME BACK! YOU TOLD ME I HAD TO APPLY FROM NYC! YOU SAID SO! I DON’T HAVE THE MONEY FOR THIS TRIP, I DIDN’T WANT TO COME, AND I STILL CAME ACROSS THE OCEAN! YOU ARE TELLING ME I AM TRAPPED STATESIDE FOR X AMOUNT OF TIME!? I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!!!

Before I continue, let me say something: receiving bad news is one thing, okay. But receiving bad news from a stern looking Flemish woman staring back at you unfeelingly from the other side of a glass wall, speaking into a microphone so that not only you, but the other people sitting in the claustrophobic waiting area, can listen to your plight and knowing that you are about to burst into tears from mere exhaustion and frustration, is a whole nother thing. Upon receiving the aforementioned information, it took all my might not to throw myself against the glass window shrieking in a fit of rage and despair.

But I did control myself. I summoned up all my courage and Minnesota nice-ness and pleaded with the woman at the desk, recounting the whole of my history with this wretched business. She seemed about as sympathetic as a doorknob. She did let me know though, that she would do her best to speed things up for me, that she’d keep me updated on the status of my application.

So I left the consulate that first day with my head down, shoulders slumped, weeping pathetically and frantically trying to contact Trevor to inform him of my miserable situation. I felt trapped. All I could do was wait.

However woeful that first day in New York was, I didn’t let it keep me down for too long. I mean, I was in NYC! I’d been before, but never with so much time to explore. Angela and Andi came down from Boston, and I was staying with the inimitable Bunky Pugh, short time college roommate, long time friend and BAMF. Much merry making was had, including, but not limited to:

Visiting High Line park in Chelsea
Consuming an inordinate number of margaritas (as a group mind you!) and paying for only 2/3 of them
Drinking champagne on the Staten Island Ferry and toasting to Lady Liberty as we floated past
Going to Coney Island, eating a famous Nathan’s corndog, riding terrifying and dilapidated amusement park rides
Attending minor league baseball by the beach (Brooklyn Cyclones vs. Staten Island Yankees…Yankees suck!)
GEtting an amazing $6 manicure in the Bronx.
Touring the Metropolitan Museum of Art including the Alexander McQueen exhibit (GO SEE IT IF YOU CAN!)
Getting lost in Central Park and forgetting, for a short while, what city I was even in
Wandering around Little Italy, China Town, and the Village while consuming delicious $2.50 falafel
Going to the Botanical Gardens in the Bronx, so beautiful!
Finally, dancing the Peabody at a 1920s themed lawn party on Governor’s Island

So you see, I was never bored. In fact, I did all this before I heard any updates about my visa. I decided to go home to Minneapolis, since I had no clue when I would actually receive my visa, and I missed my friends and family there. My parents brought me back, thank you parents! And I had two days in MN before I received the email from the consulate that my visa was ready to be picked up the next day (a week ago Thursday). I scurried and found a last minute flight to New York from Mpls, hopped on it at 6:30am the next day, landed in NYC, cabbed it to the consulate to make it there before it closed for the day, picked up my visa, kissed it, cried a little, and practically ran to Bunky’s office to have a celebratory lunch of delicious burgers.

I booked the next available flight back to Belgium (for no change fee thanks to Trevor’s strong-arming of Delta airlines and many explainations of my situation). I arrived in Belgium a week ago yesterday, and was back at work taking care of children last Monday, jetlagged and happy. My misadventure was completed in about 2.5 weeks instead of 10 days, and I can finally breathe a huge sigh of relief.

But I’m not done yet, oh no! I still have to get my resident’s card, insurance, and a bank account. You haven’t seen the last of me, Belgium…

*An apostille is a special stamp from the Secretary of State in Minnesota (or any state). It validates that document at the highest possible level in your state.

Advertisements

Share this:

Like this:

Related

3 Responses

Wow, I knew it was bad from what I heard from Trevsey, but FTLOG (for the Love of God)! Really! So glad the two of you are back together – I am sure my Trevsey is very happy, probably more like ecstactic as well. Look out Belgium – they are in trouble when Lindsor and Trevsey are going to take them on. Love you both.

Uff-dah. Though there is a bit of romance in the story (you did paint NYC red, after all), I never thought bureaucracy could be so confining. It sort of reminds me of those creatures from “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”, only more Flemish and with more bureaucracy. All I have to say is that I’m happy you twos are backs togethers yo.